"’Gallant General, Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems to me that this must be the happiest day of my life, thus to stand before an audience in the famous Crescent City in company with my dear husband and daughters. Most assuredly this is the red letter day of my life, if I ever had one, to address both soldiers and citizens at New Orleans. "’And yet I am quite overwhelmed when I contrast the little I was permitted to do in the Abolition Campaign before the war with what many a brave man,—yes, hundreds of thousands of men have done since, and are doing now, both by day and by night. I feel quite overcome when I think even of these brave men all around me here, and remember the easy times by comparison, that we Abolitionists had as we travelled the Northern States, and were not always well received. Yes, small and puny was our work compared with that of the black and white heroes who have often met a most determined and even desperate foe, on many a hard fought field. The hearts of us poor women in the North have often bled as we all these years at home lay secure and safe, whilst our loved ones were fighting like giants against the enemies of human liberty, and mankind also. The bravest of the brave were in the field. White and black all fought alike well. They were the flower of all the men of the north. They were swifter than eagles. They were stronger than lions. "’The war, no doubt, is now drawing to a close. The host of slavery is in their last ditch, even at Richmond in Virginia, where blacks and whites will have to finish them between them. And when this cruel war is all over, and those who remain alive return home again, then the country will begin to teem with chronicles and histories of the great rebellion. But will one hundredth part of the truth ever be told? I don’t think it ever will; because it will never be known, and who can write the history of that which we don’t know? Such and such things could be related, but there is no one to record them.